


Sick Day Confessions

by redheadedleague



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Confessions, Fluff, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-26 23:27:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21382336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redheadedleague/pseuds/redheadedleague
Summary: Harry Potter is sick and missing a well earned Friday night out with his friends at a pub. He thinks about his current rotation as a student Healer on the Pediatric Ward at St. Mungo’s.  It’s a tough but rewarding rotation; however, the kiddos are known for sharing their colds with just about anyone and Harry just happened to be on the receiving end.  Draco Malfoy takes it upon himself to bring Harry a few things, like cold medicine and soup, since they are now friends and study partners after all.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 95





	Sick Day Confessions

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Harry Potter nor am I profiting off of this work.  
Please enjoy! :)

Achoo! Harry absentmindedly grabs a tissue and cleans his nose again. He burrows down once more into the cocoon of blankets thinking about how he should be spending a free Friday night out with his friends at the local pub, Phoenix Feathers. Instead he is stuck in his living room, on the couch, buried under a mountain of blankets with a repeat Holyhead Harpies vs Puddlemere United Quidditch match playing softly on the wireless. Eyes fluttering closed, he thinks about his current rotation as a student Healer on the Pediatric Ward at St. Mungo’s. It’s a tough but rewarding rotation; however, the kiddos are known for sharing their colds with just about anyone and Harry just happened to be on the receiving end. He muses that he should keep a better distance from the particularly snotty ones, instead of letting them climb into his lap, maybe he’ll sit in the chair next to their beds instead. 

As his clogged nose, open mouth breathing begins to slow and even out, the Floo roars to life. Grumbling, Harry hastily grabs his glasses and perches them on the bridge of his nose, eyes beginning to focus on the human shape that was stepping out of the fireplace and shaking off the soot from the journey through the Floo. Belatedly, Harry realizes he does not need to aid of his spectacles to focus on the person on the hearth, he would recognize that figure anywhere, even under a well casted Glamour. It was the lithe fit frame of none other than Draco Malfoy. Draco was currently on the same rotation as Harry on the Pediatric Ward at St. Mungo’s. Although at the beginning of their Healer training they continued to toss hurtful barbs at each other, over the years, the barbs became less sharp and more playful. They eventually became study partners when they realized they had the same goal in mind of becoming Pediatric Healers. 

As Draco approaches the coffee table, he unshrinks the bags he had stuffed in the pockets of his midnight blue cloak and goes about gingerly placing each item on the tabletop in a way that Harry suspects Draco is in the mind that Harry is actually sleeping. During the time it takes for Draco to silently unload the various items from the bags, Harry takes the opportunity to gaze at the figure in front of him from his carefully tousled white blonde hair, to his cheeks rosy from the cold, and to that midnight blue cloak that has way too many buttons and is slightly too form fitting for a cloak, in Harry’s opinion. Harry then shifts his focus to the items and immediately spots the familiar shape of a Night Nurse bottle, and a new box of tissues. Once Draco is finished with his task, he looks toward the cocoon of blankets and the barely noticeable tip of a nose and the lens covered green eyes of his once schoolyard rival and scoffs. 

“Tut, tut, Harry, you know you should not be sleeping in those monstrosities that you call spectacles. Whatever would happen if you damaged them and they became unwearable? How would the Wizarding World recognize the Chosen One without your signature frames? On a second thought, you might be doing all Wizardkind a favor by finally updating them.”  


“Piss off Draco. Can’t you spare some sympathy for a sick man?” Harry states as he starts to cough. 

“Fine, fine,” Draco says placidly while reaching for the cold medicine. Bottle in hand, Draco shoves Harry’s legs out of way to make room for himself on the couch and begins to fondly tease Harry for always requesting Muggle Medicines when he is sick. At that, Harry begins to half-heartedly grumble under his breath that there is a perfectly good high-backed cushioned chair next to the couch and he did not have to actually have to bring him is preferred remedy. But he gives up on the feeble grumbling when Draco hands him the bottle of cold medicine along with a measuring cup. Truth is, Harry is secretly pleased that Draco was willing to not only indulge him with the Night Nurse medicine while he is sick, but to sit so close to him, even with his runny nose and phlegmy cough. 

“Bottoms up,” Harry declares after he measured out the correct dose of the syrupy cold medicine and promptly swallows the dose in one go. During Harry’s measuring and partaking of the cold medicine, Draco Accio-ed some bowls and spoons from the kitchen and commenced dishing out the soup. Harry groans at the sight of steamy chicken noodle soup for he could not remember the last meal he had eaten as his appetite has been suppressed since he first noticed the tickle in the back of his throat. He let the blankets fall around himself and onto the red and gold area rug and snatches up the nearest bowl. Draco watches Harry slurp the noodles off the spoon with a look that Harry could not interpret in his medicinally induced drowsy state. 

After the chicken noodle soup was devoured, Draco pops down to the kitchen to make a cuppa for Harry. Once Draco returns to the living room with the cuppa in hand, he notices that Harry is starting to bob his head, coaxes him into lying down, and picks up the blankets off the floor tucking them firmly around a now supine Harry. He scoffs while he gently slips off Harry’s black framed lenses. Harry sensing the disappearance of his spectacles, opens his eyes and drowsily glances up at Draco and starts muttering words under his breath. Startled by the now unhampered view of Harry’s red-rimmed green eyes and the whispered mumblings, Draco leans in closer to be able to hear Harry better. 

“Mmmm, Draco, you are so good to me. Mmmm, you always know what I need… I think… I think I like you... Like, like you like you,” And with that, Harry swiftly began to snore. 

Draco, with pink-tinted cheeks and a fond expression, mumbles out an “I like you too,” toward the snoring lump of blankets that are housing Harry Potter, steps toward the hearth, and quietly Floos himself back to his flat.


End file.
